


curl up beside you

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: 30 Day Lyrics Challenge - 2017 [28]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3 times, Declarations Of Love, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Derek's Loft, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt Stiles, I have a real problem with overusing italics, M/M, Making Out, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Overuse of italics, found it, how isn't that a tag, the Loft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 09:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13187043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: Three times Stiles ends up in Derek's bed.





	curl up beside you

**Author's Note:**

> this WAS going to be a 5 + 1 fic but it's too hard to fit that into 1500 words so it turned into a 3 times fic.
> 
> from Kidding Ourselves by Stabilo:
> 
> "And I, I want to curl up beside you and die/At least for an hour or more"
> 
> I can't stay away from this ship lbr

**1**

“How the _fuck_ did this happen?” Scott asks for the third time as Derek deposits Stiles onto his bed. Stiles gives a groan as he hits the bed, arm pressing against his side tightly, though it does nothing to stop the blood spreading across his light grey shirt and bleeding onto his light blue hoodie.

“Stiles,” he says, leaning over the bed and ignoring Scott, who’s partially wolfed out and has started pacing, as if that’s going to help, “I need you to move your arm. I need to see how bad it is.”

Somehow, amidst the pain and haziness, Stiles manages to glare at him, but Derek doesn’t have time for this. He raises his eyebrows, and after a moment Stiles pulls his arm back, wincing and letting his head fall onto the pillow.

“Get the first aid kit from my bathroom,” he instructs Scott, who looks at him for a moment with a deer-in-headlights expression before he nods, rushing toward the bathroom. Carefully, Derek helps Stiles shrug his hoodie off, throwing it onto the hardwood where it won’t stain anything. As soon as Scott’s back with the kit, he pulls out the scissors and cuts Stiles shirt away from the wound.

It’s a few minutes later, plenty of water, gentle touches, some alcohol pads, and a lot of jaw clenching from Stiles later that Derek finally is able to see how bad it is, and it he’s honest it’s not the _worst_. A bullet just grazed Stiles’ side.

“You’ll live,” he tells Stiles, who glares at him again. Again, Derek ignores him, placing a square of gauze over the laceration and taping it in place. Once he’s deposited all the bloody paper towels, gloves, and used alcohol swabs in the garbage, he helps Stiles sit up, Scott standing behind him, still unhelpfully.

“You’re going to need to replace the gauze every few hours and be very, very careful, but you should be good without getting stitches as long as you take it easy for the next few days.”

“We’ve still got hunters on our territory and you expect me to take it easy?” Stiles asks, gasping as he settles into the pillows again. It’s by and far not the worst pain he’s experienced, Derek knows, but that doesn't make it _not bad_.

“ _We_ can take care of it,” Scott interjects, and Derek can feel and hear the tiny bit of _alpha_ Scott injects into his speech. Of course, it doesn’t do anything to Stiles.

“We can. You _need_ to heal in case something worse comes up,” he says, and Stiles looks between the two of them for a moment before he finally nods.

“You probably shouldn’t be home alone tonight,” Derek advises, “Just in case. Can someone stay with you or do you need to stay here?”

Stiles looks to Scott at this question, and Scott nods.

“I can stay at your house.”

Scott’s helps Stiles out of the loft, slowly to agitate the wound as little as possible, and Derek says to their retreating form, “Take it _easy_.”

Stiles’ grunt in response doesn’t make Derek feel better because Stiles is terrible about knowing when to give up, but he can’t do much more now.

He’ll check on him in the morning.

 

**2**

“You’ve been staring at that computer for the last twelve hours straight,” Derek says, “I think it’s time to take a break and get some fucking sleep.”

It’s nearing two a.m., and Stiles has been sitting in his loft researching all day. Most of the pack filtered out a while ago, one by one, exhausted because they’ve all been trying to figure out what the _fuck_ is happening. Half the town’s population are fainting at random intervals and the other half having bouts of amnesia. They’ve figured by now that it’s some sort of spell by one pissed off nymph, angered by _someone_ in Beacon Hills, but they haven’t yet found how to stop it or even how to find the nymph to _talk_ to them.

That’s what Stiles is still working on.

The man in question looks up from his laptop, blinking owlishly and Derek can _see_ the pure exhaustion in his expression. He looks ready to drop dead right then and there.

“No way you’re making it home tonight,” he says, and Stiles cocks his head to the side, as if he doesn’t quite understand and Derek - he can’t help that the motion reminds him of a dog. He would make a joke since Stiles is always making dog jokes about the ‘wolves in the pack, but he honestly doesn’t think Stiles would _get_ it.

“What?” he asks after a moment, and Derek rolls his eyes. He walks over to Stiles, taking his laptop and Stiles just stares at him as he closes it, puts it on the coffee table and pulls Stiles out of the chair.

“C’mon. You can take my bed since you’re still healing. I’ll take the couch.”

He has to physically pull Stiles toward his bedroom, and he stumbles along behind Derek, eyes wide and he looks so childlike Derek would feel bad _not_ taking care of him in this state. He pulls out an old t-shirt and some sweatpants and throws them on the bed before going to the door, turning to see Stiles still watching him from the middle of the room.

“Change, sleep,” is all he says before he shuts the door behind him, hoping Stiles has enough left in him to at least change out of his jeans before he falls into the bed.

The next morning, Derek wakes to the smell of coffee and...bacon? He blinks against the rays of sunrise bleeding through the windows in his living room, sniffing the air and hearing the soft sounds of someone in his kitchen, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

It’s Stiles, who’s attempting a fry-up from the looks of it; eggs going in one pan, bacon and ham in another, sausage in a third. Coffee’s nearly done percolating, two mugs waiting by the pot. Derek clears his throat, leaning against the door jamb and watching. Stiles doesn’t so much as jump, just turns around and he looks refreshed, much better than the previous night, and he smiles.

“Thanks for letting me stay over,” he says, turning back to flip the bacon, “I was dead on my feet last night, no way I woulda made it home.”

“Of course. Anytime,” Derek replies, and from the way Stiles’ face brightens, he has no doubt the man plans to take him up on that offer.

 

**3**

Derek wakes slowly, the feeling of another body pressed against his unsurprisingly comforting. He tightens his hold on that other body slightly, eyes focusing until he sees the score of dark brown hair, pale skin dotted with moles, the gentle throbbing of his pulse under the jaw. _Stiles_. Derek can hear his heartbeat, gentle and uninterrupted, clearly still asleep. He nudges his nose forward, brushing just barely against the back of Stiles’ neck, breathing in his scent.

It’s _everything_ , waking up next to Stiles. Derek feels more calm than he has in years, and incredibly happy too. Just one day ago - even fourteen hours earlier - he was pining quietly, watching Stiles from afar with nothing more than fantasies of something like _this_. All it had taken was a couple of hours, some hyping himself up, some pushing from Kira and Erica, and him admitting to Stiles the previous night after pack dinner to get here.

Stiles had stared at him for a moment, clearly shocked, before a smile split his face and he rushed forward from where he was helping clear dishes and he was kissing Derek, pulling back just a moment to reply with “I love you too, you dork”.

“Stay,” Derek had whispered after some mutual orgasms and lots of lazy making out, and Stiles had smiled and said, “As long as you’ll have me.”

Stiles snuffs, twitching and Derek hears the moment he wakes up, heart skipping once, speeding up just slightly as Stiles adjusts to his surroundings. There’s a hand on Derek’s arm, which is still solidly wrapped around Stiles’ middle, and then Stiles turns over so he’s facing Derek, their faces less than a couple inches apart.

“Good morning,” Stiles whispers, eyes searching Derek’s like he’s expecting something, face unsure.

But Derek’s not. He’s never been more sure of anything. He leans forward to press a short, soft kiss to Stiles’ lips.

“Good morning.”

The searching stops, and Stiles smiles at him, looking vulnerable but so happy.

Derek returns the feeling.

“Can we just stay in bed all day?” Stiles asks, settling further in and Derek uses the arm braced around Stiles, pulls him even closer.

“‘ve got nothing I’d rather do.”

Stiles’ grin widens, and it’s just a moment before they’re kissing again, bodies pressed to each other and it’s gonna be a good day, Derek can already tell.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com)
> 
> don't post my stuff on goodreads or like sites thanks!
> 
> also I have a real problem talking to myself in the tags, if y'all haven't noticed by now. O.O


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